


The Other Side of Oikawa Tooru

by valkyrific (Lunakore)



Series: HQ!! Drabbles and One-Shots [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, it's honestly not very triggering but i'm tagging it just to be sure, this was supposed to be v fluffy and then it turned into something else i'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 12:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5164679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunakore/pseuds/valkyrific
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you think that everyday Oikawa Tooru is annoying as hell, you should try holding a 5 second conversation with a sick Oikawa Tooru. And trust me; Iwaizumi can definitely say that taking care of a sick Oikawa Tooru is worse than any horror movie he’s ever seen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>OR: a something that was supposed to be fluffy goes wrong and now you're crying, much like the best things in life</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Side of Oikawa Tooru

If you think that everyday Oikawa Tooru is annoying as hell, you should try holding a 5 second conversation with a sick Oikawa Tooru. And trust me; Iwaizumi can definitely say that taking care of a sick Oikawa Tooru is worse than any horror movie he’s ever seen.

 

It used to be easier for Iwaizumi to look after Oikawa while he was sick, as all he had to do was show up with tissues and a copy of Mean Girls after school to instantly light up his face which had shown multiple signs of sickness: bright red nose, pale skin, and a blush that dusted across his cheeks that was otherwise unexplainable, that is, until the two of them started dating in their third year of high school.

 

But now, in their first year of college, Iwaizumi had to deal with all of the antics that come with Oikawa’s sickness _while they were living together._

 

 

The constant complaining.

 

 

The incessant groaning (and not the good kind).

 

And the one Iwaizumi hated the most: having to watch his asshole of a boyfriend be a miserable lump of self-pity for a week.

 

“Oi! Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi bellowed, tossing a throw pillow at the former volleyball captain that was buried underneath several blankets, only earning a groan in reply.

 

Iwaizumi sighed and walked over to their shared bed, yanking the covers off of his boyfriend, revealing a pathetic sight.

 

Oikawa was still dressed in the gray hoodie and boxers he had went to sleep in last night, which would have been incredibly attractive if it weren’t for the rest of Oikawa’s appearance.

 

His normally bright and joyful eyes were replaced with red and puffy ones and his nose was so red he could have been mistaken for Rudolph, not to mention that the inside of the makeshift blanket cocoon Oikawa had made was filled to the brim with used tissues.

 

Letting out another sigh, Iwaizumi gently placed the covers across Oikawa’s lap, tucking it in around his crossed legs before reaching over to the bag in his backpack and pulling out the bowl of miso soup he had picked up on the way home.

 

Both were silent throughout the procedure, knowing that once one of them made a snarky comment about the other, the moment would be ruined. It was at times like these where they were able to just soak in the feeling of each other’s presence. With both of them being busy with school, they rarely got enough time to sit around and do nothing together, which might sound boring to others, but for Oikawa and Iwaizumi, it had become a ritual stemming from years of knowing and loving each other. It was something Iwaizumi had taken for granted during grade school and high school; (t)his dumbass following him around, girls fawning over him, teachers being charmed by him, volleyball teammates oohing and aahing at his serves, Iwaizumi hated it all, but he didn’t realize until later that what he knew as Oikawa was not what others knew as Oikawa. To the world, Oikawa Tooru was a world-renowned volleyball captain with a charming smile, a euphonic laugh, and a serve that no one else in the volleyball world had ever seen before. But to Iwaizumi, Oikawa Tooru was a stubborn, bullheaded crybaby, and if Iwaizumi had a nickel for every time Oikawa had fucked something up and left Iwaizumi to clean it up, they definitely wouldn’t be living in a shitty one bedroom apartment with too many cracked floor tiles in the kitchen to count and so much water leakage you’d think their roof doubled as a showerhead.

 

Still, although Oikawa has always had such a flippant demeanor, he also had a side that Iwaizumi was allowed to see more and more as the years went by, his insecure, distressed side that likes to remind him of his feelings of worthlessness.

 

The first time Iwaizumi was allowed to see this side of him was in their last year of middle school when his parents had originally decided that Oikawa would go to a high school that wasn’t the one Iwaizumi was attending. He locked himself in his room the second he received the news, curling himself into a ball on the scratchy blue rug that lay in the center of his room that had been put in there the same time as his first crib. His parents immediately tried to get him out of his room through attempts at a soothing voice and incessant knocking, but ultimately had to call and explain what was going on to Iwaizumi and ask him to come over to try to calm down Oikawa.

 

A cautious Iwaizumi entered the room that he had also spent most of his childhood in, only to find Oikawa in a state he had never seen him in. He had seen him throw tantrums over his parents refusing to buy him a new toy or dropping his ice cream on the ground, but never in such a state of grief and devastation. As soon as Oikawa caught sight of Iwaizumi, he quickly wiped his tears away and plastered a wide grin on his red, blotchy face.

 

“Oh, hi, Iwa-chan!” he said, his voice cracking. Iwaizumi had hoped that this was a result of puberty, but frowned slightly as he pushed the thought away as quickly as it came after realizing how hard Oikawa must have been crying, judging by the remnants of salty tears that glistened on Oikawa’s soft skin. Oikawa sprang up onto his feet, his legs spread and his fists resting on his hips, his fake smile widening even more. His eyes were closed in an attempt to hide their redness.

 

“I didn’t know you were coming over today!” he said before breaking his bold posture to wipe a trail of snot from his nose before it leaked into his mouth.

 

“Let’s see, we could go to the park, play video games, go swimming…” his voice trailed off and his over-exaggerated smile began to disappear as he noticed the eyes that swept across his face and Iwaizumi’s unmoving body.

 

They both stared at each other for a moment until the tears that were welling up in Oikawa’s eyes were fully prominent. His hands balled up again into fists that were shaking like leaves as fresh tears streamed down his face. He began to curl inward and collapse onto his childhood bedroom’s blue rug. The noise of his sobs filled the room as he tucked his head between his knees.

 

A few seconds passed before a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, its fingers calloused from years of playing volleyball and summers filled with adventures whose stories would be kept only to Oikawa and Iwaizumi for as long as their memories remained intact.

 

In one swift movement, Oikawa was being crushed by abnormally strong arms for a fourteen year old, his hands clutching onto Iwaizumi’s sweatshirt, crying into his chest until Iwaizumi’s mom picked him up before dinnertime.

 

Luckily, his parents allowed them both to go to the same school, much to Iwaizumi’s contentment, not that he would ever tell Oikawa that.

 

 

_________________________________________________  


 

 

The second time Iwaizumi had seen him in such a self-pitying state was during their third year of high school.

 

Iwaizumi waited at the bus stop, expecting for the familiar brown haired menace to come bouncing up to him and greeting him with a charming smile, but he never did, although Iwaizumi wasn’t worried as he assumed he would be dropped off by one of his parents.

 

That is, until Oikawa was marked absent in first period.

 

The rest of the day was its usual blur, minus the presence that was responsible for the bragging and snide comments peppered throughout his day.

 

Iwaizumi sat on his bed, surrounded by homework that he couldn’t focus on because all he could do was stare at his phone that lay on his nightstand, willing it to buzz and signal the reply from Oikawa to the text he sent hours ago.

 

He sighed before piling all of his homework into his backpack, switching off the light, and going to sleep with a pit in his stomach, though a more accurate term would be a black hole.

 

The next two days were torture compared to what his daily routine had been for the last decade of his life. He had gone to school without Oikawa before when he would visit his grandparents in Kyoto, but this was an entirely new situation to Iwaizumi, one which worried him greatly, as Oikawa hadn’t returned his text that he sent on Monday or the other copious amounts of Iwaizumi’s attempts to reach him. By then, he was almost ready to turn to carrier pigeons if it meant that he could find out if Oikawa was okay.

 

On Thursday, 3 days after Oikawa’s mysterious disappearance, Iwaizumi was hunched over his desk, his head resting on his hands. Over the past three days, he had gained dark bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep, a layer of dirt covering his entire body from not showering, and a never-ending headache coupled with eternally furrowed brows from worrying about Oikawa.

 

And if he weren’t so lost in thought, he may have had a less delayed reaction to what his teacher had just announced.

 

“Welcome back, Oikawa! I hope you’re feeling well!” she exclaimed, he words muffled by the way the girls in the class gasped at the sheer sight of him and turned to giggle with each other, only to abruptly stop as Oikawa turned his head towards the class.

 

A dark bruise had settled across his right cheek, a mix of purples, blues, and blacks that stood out against his porcelain skin. He had on his signature smile which was convincing enough to fool everyone else, but Iwaizumi could tell in his eyes that this particular smile was anything but genuine. Iwaizumi could feel himself wanting to cringe at the sight, but was able to maintain his steely expression.

 

Oikawa made his way to his seat that was adjacent to Iwaizumi’s without even glancing at his best friend, and instead sending small waves towards girls that had previously gushed over him when he had first entered the classroom, but were now staring at him with wide eyes and slightly parted mouths.

 

By the time he had slid into his seat and dropped his stuff on the floor, one of their classmates had turned around in their seat and questioned him about the bruise.

 

“Oh, I just… ran into a door! Yeah, it totally came out of nowhere, it didn’t even hit me that there was a door there until it actually hit me!” Oikawa said with a nervous laugh before flawlessly regaining his usual charm.

 

“I’m fine, now, promise!” he exclaimed with a little more of a convincing smile than Iwaizumi knew he could muster. With that, the rest of the class was satisfied and returned to their normal studies.

 

The rest of the day was just as the past three had been, and it was almost as if Oikawa were absent from school again. If avoiding were an Olympic sport, he would have brought home the gold medal. It wasn’t until volleyball practice that he saw Oikawa again, but even then he kept to the opposite side of the court that Iwaizumi was on.

 

Oikawa changed back into his uniform faster than Iwaizumi thought was humanly possible and was ready to go in five minutes flat. Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and Kindaichi always stayed behind to clean up the court, but today Kindaichi went home early with a weird rash on his back, leaving Oikawa and Iwaizumi alone in the Aoba Johsai gym.

 

Oikawa had already gathered his things from his locker before he started to head towards the door.

 

 

“Tooru.”

 

 

Oikawa stopped in his tracks, tightening his grip on the straps of his backpack as he bit his lip, reciting the mantra that usually stops him from crying, but somehow he knows that it will not be effective today.

 

 

“What happened?”

 

 

Iwaizumi stared at Oikawa’s unmoving body, awaiting a reply.

 

They stood in silence until Oikawa replied in a voice that was heartbreaking to compare to usually cheerful one.

 

“I can’t.” he whispered softly. Iwaizumi could tell that he was crying even though he couldn’t see his face.

 

“You’ll think I’m gross and not want to be friends with me anymore, and then I’ll be all alone.” he continued, sniffling between phrases.

 

“That’s not true.” Iwaizumi responded without even having to think about it, his voice as quiet as the other’s had been previously.

 

Oikawa turned to look at him, only to be momentarily shocked by how close he was before realizing that he probably just didn’t hear Iwaizumi’s footsteps over his own crying.

 

 

“I told my parents that I’m gay.”

 

 

Finally, Iwaizumi pieced together all of the information, eyes widening when he realized how Oikawa had gotten his bruise.

 

“My parents didn’t want people to see the bruise, so they kept me home for a few days so that it went away a little bit.” Oikawa said, his head lowered and his eyes focusing on the ground.

 

He expected for the same calloused hand to rest on his shoulder again like it did all those years ago, but what he didn’t expect was to feel a soft pair of lips be pressed gently against his own.

 

Oikawa froze for a moment, but then began to kiss back gingerly. Their lips would have been moving in sync if it weren’t for Oikawa, who was kissing with a bit more vigor, trying to convey a message through chapped lips and labored breathing.

 

 

_I love you, Hajime._

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

 

The third time Iwaizumi had seen Oikawa in that state was now.

 

An empty bowl of miso soup lay beside Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s nest of blankets and pillows. Tissues were scattered across the room, and the only thing that could be heard was the sound of each other’s breathing.

 

Usually, a sick Oikawa meant a complaining, groaning Oikawa who would make Iwaizumi his personal slave for the entire week even if it was only a minor head cold, but this Oikawa was quiet and out of energy from the amount of work his teachers had given him and the pressure from his failing grades.

 

With a DVD copy of Mean Girls whirring inside his laptop, Iwaizumi hopes that his message is being conveyed through everything he has done today.

 

 

_I love you, Tooru._

**Author's Note:**

> boy, that escalated quickly.
> 
> stalk me  
> main blog: http://shitstormcentral.tumblr.com/  
> fandom blog: http://gay-swimmers.tumblr.com/  
> art blog (that i post my writing on): http://valkyrific.tumblr.com/
> 
> (ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ⌒･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆


End file.
